


No One Wants Your Opinion

by thepinupchemist



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexuality, Bottom Steve, Coming Out, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Liberal Steve Rogers, M/M, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Social Media, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Top Bucky Barnes, Topping from the Bottom, angry cinnamon bun steve, but they actually like to switch, but tony thought he was, power bottom Steve, tony thinks a lot of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Bucky loves to cuddle Steve Rogers, Steve comes out on national television for the sole purpose of spiting conservative politicians, Tony sees things he wishes he hadn't, and Pepper doesn't know why she even bothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Wants Your Opinion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Remembered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remembered/gifts).



**Soundtrack: Fuck You – Lily Allen**

**_No One Wants Your Opinion_ **

Steve enjoyed being the only person in Avengers Tower that knew Bucky as something other than a skulking grump with murder eyes. Hell, Bucky hardly spoke a word to anyone but Steve. From time to time Steve caught snippets of hushed exchanges in Russian between Bucky and Natasha, but the conversations were fraught with knit brows and frowning mouths.

In their suite, Bucky smiled. He laughed at Steve’s bad puns, he looked up recipes on Pintrest to make breakfasts that would keep Steve full for more than a couple hours, he danced to pop music that Steve was 90% sure Natasha introduced him to, and at any given moment Bucky kissed, petted and snuggled Steve. In particular Steve liked the Netflix nights spent catching up on all the movies and television shows that both of them missed, not only because he understood previously unclear references made by his teammates, but because Bucky wrapped Steve up in his limbs like an octopus and didn’t let go.

Bucky latched onto Steve like a barnacle behind their closed doors, and damn if Steve didn’t love it.

They kept their private life under lock and key, but not out of fear as much as it was out of habit. All the way back in the thirties, Steve and Bucky kept their preferences strictly to themselves. They could have gone to queer bars, could have found like-minded friends – but for a few years there, even having lost their virginities to one another way back when they were teenagers, he and Bucky held out hope that they might grasp at some kind of normalcy.

Of course, then Pearl Harbor happened, the war came, Bucky enlisted, Steve volunteered to be a science experiment, and all in all folks didn’t give a flying fuck who made time with whom as long as they were discrete about the affair. No, being a bisexual fella in the army wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst, either. Steve and Bucky’s relationship was an open sort of secret. Phillips didn’t know, but Peggy and the Howlies did.

Dum Dum’s exact words upon catching Steve and Bucky in a kiss had been, “Ain’t no business of mine, but you might take it someplace less obvious next time, you fuckin’ idiots.”

A good rule of thumb, Steve had told Natasha shortly after they brought Bucky back to the Tower and revealed his identity to the world, was that history was a whole lot gayer than your high school teacher told you it was. Hell, before Bucky fell from that train, Peggy proposed and arrangement between the three of them. They would’ve done it, too, if Bucky and Steve hadn’t each died in their own way.

Point was: Steve and Bucky didn’t parade their relationship around then, and they sure as shit didn’t want to parade it around now, when Bucky’s brain was still healing and everything they did was new territory all over again.

When Bucky first came to live with Steve, Steve didn’t know if he’d want to pick up where they left off. Steve settled Bucky in his own bedroom, lent him some distance, and hoped like hell that he was doing the right thing for both of them. Turned out Bucky didn’t like that all that much – he told Steve as much about a month after he’d come home, over coffee and eggs at the breakfast table.

“How come you don’t kiss me no more?” he asked in that soft, hesitant tone he took on whenever he was afraid to know the answer to something.

Steve had dropped his mug in surprise. He’d stammered, “I didn’t know if you…I thought…I thought maybe you wouldn’t want – _that_ , anymore.”

Bucky abandoned his breakfast on the table and crossed the kitchen in one smooth movement. He wrapped his arms around Steve, pressed his head into Steve’s shoulder, and stood there. After a moment, Steve remembered to move and hugged Bucky back, rubbing his hands over the tense curve of Bucky’s spine. Bucky relaxed into the touch, melted in a way that Steve hadn’t seen in so, so long.

“Fuckin’ stupid punk,” Bucky muttered into his neck, “I’m not – not the same as him. Not him. But there’s parts of me that are, and I remember a lot more nudity than we’ve been having around here.”

Steve laughed, and from then on when they were in the safe haven of their Tower suite, they didn’t go a day without their hands all over each other.

At first they kept the touches to cuddling. Or, rather, Steve tried to keep the touches to cuddling. He liked tangling his limbs with Bucky. He liked the way that his soap smelled on Bucky’s neck, liked the way Bucky’s hair felt so soft between Steve’s fingers when he ran his hand through it. He liked Bucky, and to be honest, he didn’t think that he would have asked for a Bucky different than the one that he had. Sure, yeah, Bucky wasn’t the same. But neither was Steve. Bucky from back then, from before the war and even during it, was still young and doe-eyed. That Bucky belonged to a similarly young and doe-eyed Steve.

This Bucky, with his metal arm and quiet, cautious way of doing things, was twenty first century Steve’s Bucky. Steve didn’t see things so black and white, didn’t really believe in the innate good of humanity the way he had before. Where Steve of the previous century saw a sketch of the world, Steve of this century saw the shades of gray, shades that included a less-than-savory incarnation of his Bucky.

Less-than-savory he may have been, but none of the intermediary seventy years between then and now changed Bucky’s desire to be wrapped up in Steve like a blanket. He doted on Steve way back when they were kids, doted on him after Steve sprouted ten inches taller and weighed a hundred fifty pounds heavier, and Bucky goddamn doted on Steve now. He fed him his favorite foods and bought Steve things he thought looked interesting on the internet or, when he braved the world outside Avengers Tower, from newfangled twenty first century stores. He pawed at Steve’s hair and kissed him everywhere and, well.

Bucky enjoyed flustering Steve, frankly. He initiated sex, almost always. He liked peeling back Steve’s clothes, liked playing with fancy lubricants he found online or massage oils from those same websites. He liked riding Steve or rolling his hips into Steve or putting his mouth on Steve.

And no one needed to know, because Steve had a museum exhibit about himself and everyone in America knew more about Steve than he cared to have them know, but his and Bucky’s relationship in and out of clothing was something that Steve could keep for himself.

Until.

_Until._

“That fucking orange, racist, misogynistic, fluffy-haired _piece of shit_!” Steve yelled. Again.

“Babe,” Bucky said evenly, “Come on. Babydoll. Breathe for me.”

“I _will not_ ,” Steve gritted out, “I am not Donald goddamn Trump’s fucking puppet!”

“People know that,” Bucky tried to assure him, both hands out in front of him like that actor from the new dinosaur movie Tony made them watch on family movie night. He went on, “You’re pretty loud about your opinions on Twitter. They’re not fooled by this guy.”

“Yes, they are,” Steve said with a dramatic wave of his arms, “The media latches onto him like – like – the media loves sucking Donald Trump’s dick and that unbelievable asshole _brought me into it._ ‘Captain America doesn’t stand for a country taken over by Mexico’ my LEFT NUT, BUCKY. I FORMED A RACIALLY INTEGRATED UNIT DURING MOTHER-GODDAMN-FUCKING WORLD WAR FUCKING TWO.”

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“ _WHAT_.”

“Steve, you gotta breathe,” Bucky said, “You can tweet that you don’t agree with him or something. Or make one of them Youtube videos or some crap.”

From the television, the offending orange, racist, misogynistic, fluffy-haired piece of shit continued: “— _and furthermore, I don’t believe that Captain Rogers approves of the deterioration of traditional marriage values and the reprehensible Supreme Court decision to uphold the –”_

“FUCK!” Steve roared.

“Stevie,” Bucky said, “Please.”

“Don’t ‘Stevie’ me! He just pulled me into his homophobic – fuck. I gotta come out. I gotta – I don’t gotta bring you into it, if you don’t want, but I gotta tell everyone. I know we’ve been keeping our stuff under wraps but I can’t just let him get away with spewing vitriol in my name, Buck. I gotta tell everyone I’m bisexual and shut this orange trash receptacle’s stupid flapping mouth.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, “Then we’ll come out.”

Steve softened. His shoulders slumped. He said, “You don’t have to. They’ll hound us about it.”

After the media circus that followed the big Winter Soldier reveal, Steve knew Bucky could go a few more lifetimes and still not be ready for the same level of shitshow. Pulling the curtain open on their relationship would fire up everything all over again.

“Yeah, I know,” sighed Bucky, “but I ain’t gonna let you do this thing without me. ‘Til the end of the line, and all that sappy shit.”

The fury drained from Steve, siphoned out of him until the anger was nothing but a dull throb in the back of his mind. He pulled Bucky into his arms, made himself smaller so that he could fit tucked up against Bucky’s muscled chest. Bucky kissed the top of Steve’s head and said, “We should call that Pepper gal, huh? She always knows how to put out our fires. Maybe she’d like it better if we told her we’re starting one before we do it.”

**X**

“I’m sorry,” Pepper said, no more than an hour later, in the suite she shared with Tony several floors above Bucky and Steve, “but what?”

Steve had expected to find only Pepper at home, but when he and Bucky stepped off of the elevator and JARVIS announced their arrival, they found Tony alongside his wife at their kitchen table, eating something out of a takeout container, probably on a Pepper-enforced non-negotiable meal so he didn't starve to death in his lab. Steve liked Tony; of course he did. They were friends. But Tony's presence did complicate Steve explaining his sexuality and currently relationship status to Pepper.

“We want to come out,” Steve said, “of the closet.”

“Hold up,” Tony said, “Captain America is gay?”

Steve turned a tired, not-now-son look on Tony and said, “I’m bisexual.”

“Since when?” asked Tony.

“Since 19-always,” Bucky interjected.

“Wait, this isn’t like, a new thing?” Tony plowed on, “Like, you and Capsicle being an item predates the whole Winter Soldier hullabaloo? You’re not embracing the wonders of sexual experimentation of the twenty first century?”

Bucky shook his head and replied, “Nope,” with a pop of the ‘p’.

“But when did you –” Tony started.

“Nineteen thirty three. I swear, it’s like you think you invented sex, Tony,” Steve said, “Next question.”

“How did you –”

“Because it was obvious what you were going to ask,” Steve replied, “Anything else?”

“I just,” Tony said, glancing from Pepper to Bucky to Steve and back again, “I can’t believe this. My whole world turned on its head. You’re a virgin, Steve!”

Bucky laughed before anyone else could say a word. He laughed a deep, all-encompassing belly laugh and said, “Fuck. Fuck, he’s kidding, right? Oh my God.”

“I’m not kidding,” Tony said, missish, “Captain Dad has been on my ass about my affairs since we met!”

“Because you were indiscrete,” Steve replied, “You can have sex with people without waving your dick in front of a camera, Tony.”

Pepper snorted.

“Hey!” Tony protested, “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” Pepper replied, “but he has a point.”

“Anyway, I don’t do that anymore,” Tony continued, “I can’t believe Captain America invented the gay sex scandal.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Pepper heaved a long, long sigh, and said, “All right. Give me a week and we’ll find an appropriate media outlet. You said both of you want to be there? You want to come out together?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “Can’t let him do it on his own. I mean, it takes two.”

“Gross,” Tony said.

Steve narrowed his eyes. He asked, “You got a problem with two fellas having a nice time together?”

“No,” Tony said petulantly, “I was in my twenties once. I know how man-on-man works. I just – I – _Captain America._ It’s like imagining my dad taking it up the butt and I just – I can’t –”

“To be fair,” Bucky said, examining his nails, “we switch.”

**X**

Steve wondered if he should feel nervous when the crew guided him to sit on a couch beside Bucky and across from their interviewer, Christine Everhart. The lights made Steve sweat under the collar of his button-down, but Ms. Everhart’s million-watt smile and perfectly coiffed blond hair reminded him that this was all a stage-act, as so many parts of his life had been.

At least Bucky looked nice. Most days Bucky opted to wear Steve's sweats and t-shirts. Steve purchased Bucky his own, but Bucky persisted. He liked the way that Steve's clothes smelled, he'd say, and Steve didn't have the heart to argue with that. This morning, Bucky washed and combed his hair, and tied it into a neat knot at the back of his head. He wore a nice button-down that Steve ironed for him, though Bucky insisted upon rolling the sleeves to three-quarters length to flash just enough shiny forearm to be intimidating. He had not, however, allowed the television crew to do his makeup as Steve had let them, and shadows ringed under his eyes from a nightmare-soaked sleep.

Ms. Everhart cleared her throat, and Steve remembered to stop staring at his boyfriend.

With the cameras poised above the set, Christine widened her grin and said, “Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. It’s great to have you on the show.”

Bucky said nothing and looked sullen, despite having agreed to this whole song-and-dance. Steve stepped in to speak for both of them, grinning back with a big smile of his own, a smile not unlike his USO show smiles. He said, “And it’s great to be here, Christine.”

“I understand you wanted to address some comments Republican frontrunner Donald Trump made earlier this week at the Republican debate.”

“That’s right,” Steve nodded.

No one expected Bucky to say anything, but he pitched in, “The thing about that bag of dicks is that he keeps pulling Steve into his farce, and it upsets Steve, so it’s upsetting me, too.”

Christine’s brows lifted high on her forehead, but to her credit, her smile didn’t drop off. She asked, “Oh? What do you mean?”

“I mean that maybe me n’ Steve didn’t technically live all the way through World War II, but we did watch what happened before,” Bucky said, shifting forward, “There’s this man. No one thinks he’s gonna win nothin’, but then he gains traction. Then it’s real. Then people are dying and the world is at war. ‘Cept then, his name wasn’t Trump. It was Hitler. Steve handpicked the men that he wanted to work with. Integrated units were real taboo back in the day, but he wanted Gabe Jones and Jim Morita anyway. Why? Because Steve Rogers is, and always has been, a screaming liberal.”

The quiet stretched between the three of them just a moment too long. Christine’s smile never fell, though, and that impressed Steve more than anything. She said, “Captain Rogers, what Sergeant Barnes is saying are things you’ve posted before on social media.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, “They are. And they’re not really why we’re here today. I can never speak enough on racism, but during the last debate Mr. Trump made a remark that struck an incredibly personal nerve. This is something I’ve stayed generally tight-lipped about, because –”

“Because Steve wanted one goddamned piece of his personal life to himself, but apparently privacy is too much to ask for in the twenty first century,” Bucky said, “So we decided to come to you and handle this on our own terms instead of letting that toupee-wearing trashcan speak for us.”

Christine shifted in her armchair. She said, “Mr. Trump was speaking for Captain Rogers at the debate. Were there comments made on your behalf, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Not as such,” Bucky answered, “I know I’m a sore subject with the country, what with the seventy-some years of brainwashing and torture and the assassinations and all the exciting things I try not to feel responsible for. But the thing about what that shi –”

Steve shot Bucky a sharp look. They could only be bleeped out so many times on network television before some alliance or church group or mothers’ coalition threw their hands up and renounced Captain America.

“That _bonehead_ ,” Bucky corrected, “The thing about what that bonehead said is that it very much applies to me as well as Captain Rogers.”

“What we talking about, Ms. Everhart,” Steve said, “is Mr. Trump’s smear against LGBTQ+ individuals.”

“LGBTQIA,” Bucky said, “We googled that, remember?”

Blood warmed Steve’s cheeks. He said, “Yeah.”

“For those of our viewers that are unaware,” Christine spoke to the camera, “Donald Trump stated that Captain Rogers opposes the Supreme Court decision that, last summer, granted LGBT individuals the right to marriage. Am I correct when I assume that Mr. Trump was wrong in making these statements?”

“He is incorrect in thinking that I oppose marriage equality,” Steve said, “not only because it granted people their rights they should have had all along, but because Bucky and I fall under that ‘B’ in LGBTQIA, ma’am. I’ve wanted to marry Bucky Barnes since 1933. Still do, as a matter of fact.”

Bucky animated out of his slump and stared at Steve. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and said, “You do?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, “I just didn’t wanna pressure you. You’ve been through so much, and –” He cut himself off, realizing that this was an incredibly personal conversation to be having on national television.

But Bucky didn’t drop it. He ignored the din of people beyond the cameras, of the surprise they knew that they would kick up with their confession, and said more softly than Steve had ever heard him speak before, “I would marry you in a heartbeat, Stevie. I know I’m not…not all there, but…”

Steve surged forward and kissed him. Okay, so a kiss hadn’t been part of Pepper’s plan, but Bucky looked seconds from falling to pieces and Steve knew Bucky would rather be kissed in front of the nation than lose his marbles in front of the nation. Bucky’s hands, both mechanical and human, came up to cup Steve’s face, and he kissed Steve right back.

Vaguely, behind the camera, Christine Everhart’s voice said, “Captain Rogers? Sergeant Barnes?” and all at once they were being pulled apart and shuffled off camera.

In the green room, Pepper met them with a hard stare. She said to them, “I thought you said you weren’t going to make a spectacle of yourselves.”

Bucky said, “We weren’t! But then _Steve_ decided to _propose to me_ on national television. And without a ring, too. Do I look like that kinda lady? I know you got backpay up to your ears. You can afford to get me a ring, you ass.”

Steve made a face and shot back, “I do have a ring! It’s just – I didn’t bring it. It’s in my sock drawer.”

“Oh,” was all that Bucky managed.

“‘Oh’ is right,” complained Pepper, “The internet is never going to let this go. I don’t know why I even try.”

**X**

The moment that Steve and Bucky walked out of the elevator, Bucky leapt onto Steve.

“Buck,” Steve protested between kisses, “Shouldn’t we do this at our place?”

(The elevator from the lobby would go as far as the common areas, where movie nights and communal meals took place. A second, private elevator took the Avengers to their individual suites and Tony to his lab)

“No,” Bucky said, already working on the buttons of Steve’s blue shirt. He nuzzled against Steve’s neck and pressed kisses to skin as he exposed it. When he hit Steve’s white undershirt, he made a soft noise of complaint and herded Steve back toward the living room furniture. He pushed Steve onto the recliner that Tony favored during movie nights, and said, “Our place is way too far.”

Steve protested, “It’s like two minutes –”

“And this will piss Tony off, which is hilarious,” Bucky said.

Knowing that he’d lost this round, Steve let himself be manhandled. Bucky shucked the button-down off of Steve’s shoulders and crowded in close, rucking up the undershirt to mouth at Steve’s muscled abdomen. Bucky muttered, “Goddamn gorgeous. That’s what you are, Stevie. Gorgeous.”

Steve swallowed and rasped, “You too. You’re beautiful.”

Bucky paused and met Steve’s eyes. A gentle smile propped up half of Bucky’s lips. It was a self-conscious expression that Steve hadn’t once seen before he was the Winter Soldier. This was twenty first century Bucky, not always so self-assured and ready to jump into every mess that Steve leapt into. He didn’t always believe Steve when he told Bucky that he was good and he was beautiful and he was worth it.

“Get rid of your shoes,” Bucky said, “and your pants. Actually, everything.”

Steve shifted to his feet to obey. Bucky ducked to the couch and stuck his hand between the cushions, extracting the bottle of lubricant that they _had not put there_ , but had actually just found while necking on the couch. Steve didn’t know to whom the lube belonged, but he thanked them all the same. He caught the bottle when Bucky tossed it.

“Hey,” Steve said, “How come I’m the only one that’s naked, huh?”

“I’m gettin’ there,” Bucky said, “Hold your horses.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He let his eyes slide over Bucky’s body as he undressed, undoing the buttons on his own shirt. Back last century, Bucky used to strip for Steve all graceful-like, but now the jerkiness of his left arm made fine motor movement dicey. He struggled with the shirt and snapped his arms until it fell off, then kicked the rest of the ensemble aside.

Years and years of seeing Bucky naked could never prepare Steve for seeing it again. He loved Bucky’s body, had always loved Bucky’s body. Now, with a lethal left arm and scar tissue streaking down his front and back in lightning bolts of stretched pink and white skin, he was more beautiful than ever. Bucky was all compact muscle, thick with barely-contained power. His thighs – Steve was a terrible poet, but even he would attempt poetry in the name of Bucky Barnes’ thickly corded thighs.

“How d’you want it, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, voice lowered.

Steve’s eyes drifted down to Bucky’s cock, where it hung heavy between those perfect legs. An itch started under Steve’s skin. He wanted to taste Bucky, to be filled with Bucky, to –

“I wanna,” Steve started, and swallowed. His mouth was dry. He tried again, “I wanna ride you.”

“You got it,” Bucky said, “Anything my best guy wants. My fiancé, if we wanna get technical.”

“I like the way that sounds,” Steve admitted.

Bucky smiled his self-conscious smile again and said, “Me too. Think I’ll like ‘husband’ even better. Think we broke the internet like Pepper said we would?”

“Probably,” Steve said, “but we can worry about that later. Sit down.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky said. It was a joke, kind of, but also wasn’t. Bucky positioned himself onto Stark’s recliner, and asked, “You want me to get you ready, or you wanna do it?”

“Mm,” Steve considered, and tossed the lube back at Bucky, “You do it. I want to ride those metal fingers.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky said emphatically. He squeezed lube out onto his metal hand and spread himself out, an offering.

Steve climbed onto Bucky’s lap and wiggled into place. He stroked his hands back through Bucky’s long hair and kissed him hard. Bucky stroked his tongue against Steve’s. There was one thing that hadn’t changed no matter what else had: Bucky tasted just the same as he had when they first kissed as two skinny boys, under the covers and scared out of their minds that somebody would find out what they meant to one another. Steve wouldn’t ever be able to describe the taste. It was skin. It was human. It was a taste that should have been expected, but because it belonged to a person that he loved so much tasted so much better than anything else in the world.

Bucky’s cold hand drifted down. He didn’t warn Steve, didn’t need to, just slid a slick metal finger inside Steve’s body. Steve moaned. Bucky massaged his finger in and out, rubbing right over that sweet spot inside. Already, Steve was falling apart. He let Bucky take the reins, let his head drop against Bucky’s muscled shoulder as a single singer moved in and out of his body.

“More,” Steve breathed into Bucky’s neck, “Need more.”

“Be patient,” Bucky murmured, his lips landing in Steve’s hair, “Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.”

Bucky didn’t want to hurt Steve, and maybe that made the whole thing more erotic. Bucky’s arm was a weapon, was spring-loaded power in a shell of advanced technology. He could destroy with that arm, but instead, he was pleasuring Steve, pressing right up against his prostate, easing a second finger into Steve’s body gentle as ever.

Steve rode back on Bucky’s hand. He bounced, hips moving up and down, up and down, Bucky’s flesh hand on one side to guide him.

“You know how pretty you are when you ride my fingers?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head.

“Pretty as a picture, Stevie,” Bucky said, “The prettiest thing I ever did see. And you’re mine. Sometimes I can’t believe that, you know. Can’t believe that you’re mine.”

“Always been yours,” Steve replied, “Always will be.”

“You better follow through,” Bucky warned, “You got on TV and told everyone you were gonna stake a claim on me. I’m a respectable guy, Steve Rogers.”

Steve let out a broken little laugh, but it melted into a long, desperate groan as he felt a third finger breach him, slick and warm with Steve’s body heat. He felt full, but not nearly full enough. He loved the sensation of Bucky inside him. Hell, Steve loved the sensation of being inside Bucky. But today, this was what he wanted, wanted to be filled, wanted to feel Bucky in and around him, that all-encompassing feeling of being possessed.

Bucky slid his free hand up the length of Steve’s spine and curled his fingers into Steve’s hair, bringing him down into a frantic kiss. The gnash of teeth and tongue reminded Steve that Bucky wanted this just as much as he did, and unlike Steve, had gone untouched for the last several minutes.

Steve pulled his mouth from Bucky’s and nibbled kisses into the skin of his jaw and throat before he said, “I’m ready.”

Steve felt cold and open, exposed, when Bucky withdrew his hand from Steve’s body. He fumbled with the lube and slicked up his erection. Steve took Bucky’s cock in hand, and Bucky splayed his hands on either side of Steve’s ass to spread him open. A shiver rolled down Steve’s spine as the head of Bucky’s cock slipped past the rim of his ass. His lips parted and he whimpered.

“There you go,” Bucky encouraged, “I wish you could see how beautiful you are like this.”

Steve smiled and replied, “Wish you could see how beautiful _you_ are,” and lowered his lips until they brushed against the shell of Bucky’s ear to say, “How do I feel, Buck? Am I tight around you? Am I hot?”

A noise ripped from Bucky’s throat, and he gripped Steve’s ass more tightly in each of his hands. The left one at least would leave bruises that would last a handful of hours, just long enough for Steve to enjoy them.

Steve braced his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and pinned him to the back of the chair. Then, he lifted his body, rolled his hips, and fucked back on Bucky’s cock. The heated, slick press of Bucky inside him made him wild, made every one of his nerves spark up. He loved that he could control the pace like this, that he could use his strength to hold Bucky down in the chair and that he could take Bucky as hard or as slow as he wanted.

At first, Steve took Bucky shallow and slow, teasing. Bucky whined and sighed beneath him, but he let Steve play.

Then Bucky breathed, “I need…Steve, I need more –”

Steve’s mouth stretched wide into a grin and he clenched around Bucky’s cock.

“You want me to ride you harder?” he asked.

Bucky nodded.

“You better ask nice, then.”

“Please,” Bucky said, the nails of his human hand digging into the meat of Steve’s ass, “Please take me harder.”

Steve obeyed. He lifted up and bounced and speared himself again on Bucky’s cock, his whole body jolting with every thrust back down. He opened his mouth, ready to talk dirty the way that Bucky liked, but all either of them managed to get out were garbled noises of pleasure and need. Steve fucked himself harder onto Bucky, skin of his ass slapping against Bucky’s thighs – God, those thighs – as desperation swallowed each of them whole.

“You close?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, still clinging onto Steve, shifting up into each movement of Steve’s body.

Steve tightened around Bucky and said, “C’mon, put your hands on me. I want you to come inside me.”

Obediently, Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock and jerked counterpoint to Steve’s thrusts. The rhythm fell away as they careened toward their peaks. Steve felt the heat, the tingle and press of his orgasm in his belly and his balls and with a shout, he came between them. The force of Steve’s orgasm and his body contracting around Bucky’s jolted Bucky into his own orgasm not moments later.

Steve slumped against Bucky and rested his head in the crook of his neck.

“Mm,” Bucky said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “That was nice.”

Neither of them made a move to shift from the recliner, even though they knew that they should. The emotional weight of the day occurred to Steve only then, being that he was tired enough to realize he’d come out to the entire world and proposed to Bucky in the space of a couple of hours. He groaned into Bucky’s skin at the thought and said, “We’re gonna have to face the internet soon, aren’t we?”

Bucky heaved a breath beneath Steve. He said, “That sounds like a problem for later.”

And it would have been, had the elevator not let out a distinct PING. The sound of the elevator doors opening echoed through the room and panic hit Steve like a solid brick wall. He tried to worm out of Bucky’s arms, but Bucky tightened his grip and said, “There’s no way to make this look like anything but exactly what it is. Sorry, pal.”

Steve peeled his face away from Bucky’s neck to face the music, which turned out to be a gape-mouthed Tony Stark.

“What the... _fuuuck_ ,” Tony said, “That’s my chair! This is a common space!”

“It’s Bucky’s fault,” Steve said.

“Wow,” Bucky said beneath him, “Way to have my back, Stevie.”

“What? It’s true,” Steve said, “You didn’t want to wait two whole extra minutes to go to our floor. You wanted to have sex right away. And you said it would tick Tony off.”

Tony had his hands over his eyes, but he still said, “I’m not as ticked off as I am scarred for life. Couldn’t give a man some warning, JARVIS?”

“ _My apologies, sir. You asked for Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, and I disclosed their location_.”

“I can’t believe you two boned on my chair,” Tony said, “Do you always bone on my chair?”

“Nah,” Bucky said, “That’s a first. Was there something you wanted?”

Without taking his hands from his face, Tony said, “Well, I was coming to congratulate you on shaking the internet up like a soda can, but upon review, I am rescinding my congratulations. You both suck.”

Steve tried not to laugh, but the second that Bucky snorted, he couldn’t contain himself. He let out a guffaw, shoulders shaking. Bucky laughed, too, and Tony made a sad whining noise.

“I’m turning around,” Tony announced, “I’m walking to the elevator. Next time I see you two, there’d better be clothes.”

“There are clothes,” Bucky said, “They’re just on the floor.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tony said, retreating. He turned to face them again when he swung into the elevator. This time, Tony didn’t bother to cover his eyes. He pointed an accusatory finger at both of them and said, “Rogers, I am sending you the bill for the upholstery cleaning. Eat a dick.”

The elevator doors closed.

**X**

**Steven G. Rogers** @TheRealCap  2m: Don’t worry, I got him a ring. I love you. @JB_Barnes

 **James Buchanan Barnes** @JB_Barnes  1m: @TheRealCap hid the thing with his socks for months. love you too, asshole [attached: a photo of a metal hand wearing a gold engagement band flipping off the camera]

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my MCU tumblr at sergeantscarlett.tumblr.com.


End file.
